Divergence
by betruebeyou
Summary: Fred and George Weasley's differences weren't always evident. They weren't evident at all if you didn't know them like she did. She knew every crack and crevice of their hearts. Hermione Granger kept on playing with fire, even though she knew she was destined to get burned. How do you choose which one to love when you've got them both wrapped so delicately around your finger?
1. The List

I never really gave much thought to strong feelings. Love, hate, sorrow, terror, euphoria. None of them. Sure, I'd liked boys. And there were people I'd disliked. I'd been sad. I'd been scared. I'd been happy. Oh, had I been happy. But never had I ever felt such strong emotions, or so many of them at once. Never had I felt the twisting of my stomach muscles when I was head over heels in love and heartbroken at the same time. I'd never gone through the experience of feeling such immense terror shoot through my veins. I'd never felt so euphoric in all my years. There was nothing—no one—that could make me feel quite like _they_ did.

Whether it was love or just pure teenage lust, I might not ever know, but I know this: I wanted them. Oh, how I wanted them. It seemed so unfair that I might have to choose. It seemed so goddamn cruel that I'd have to leave one of them behind. I never intended to inflict such heartbreak on myself, on them. But you see, things don't always go as you intend. You make a wrong move—a stray step—and then your whole plan, your whole life, is in shambles.

I liked hot chocolate, and rain days, and reading by the fireplace. I liked studying, making good grades, and making my parents proud. I lived for achievement and goals and academic success and no one, not even myself, ever thought I'd find myself caught in the middle of some vacuous teenage love triangle. But hey, I guess I can cross that one off The List. "Mess around with best friends; bonus if points if they're brothers."

I guess I'm not surprised. Hermione Granger _lives_ for extra credit.

It was early in the winter of my sixteenth year, my fifth year at Hogwarts, when my friend—by obligation of the fact that we'd stuck with each other for so long and been through so much together and alright, I guess I sort of do like him—Ron Weasley suggested that I was "inexperienced" in life. And I suppose he was correct. Actually, I know that he was. I was sixteen years old and had only once kissed a boy. Granted, this boy was a world famous quidditch star who was a good three years older than me. Nonetheless, one boy. One kiss. And that was about as fair as my romantic experiences went.

Maybe it wouldn't have been all that bad if Harry hadn't agreed with him. Sure, they were just joking around like guys do. Making fun and whatever, but it still hit a sore spot. I'd never been exactly the most popular with guys, in fact I wasn't popular with them at all, and I knew that. It was due to my impossibly bushy hair and my knack to snap at people so quickly and my over tendency to be a complete smart ass. So, it wasn't some huge mystery as to why I wasn't raking them in.

You'd think that they'd be a bit more sensitive, but I really wasn't surprised. They were teenage boys, which is roughly the same thing as 14th century barbarians. I'm wasn't so much hurt by what they said, as I was enlightened. It's what made me write The List.

You see, I'd read somewhere that if you come up with everything you want to do in your life, whether it's silly petty stuff or huge important stuff, and write them down in a sort of list then it will help you to subconsciously start achieving them. I knew it was the kind of stupid mumbo jumbo stuff I was so adamant about disbelieving in, but there was something that made me do it. So I wrote the list and it was pathetic as you'd expect. Full of stuff that most girls my age had already done and would laugh about as if it were nothing.

_Kiss another boy_

_Fall in love_

_Get my heartbroken_

_Mess around with best friends; bonus points if they're brothers_

_Sort out my god-awful hair issue _(Even though I was quite sure that one would take more than a semi magical, wishy-washy, list to fix)

_Mistake lust for love_

_Mistake love for lust_

_Experience The Big Heartbreak _(as in the number one heartbreak you feel. Everyone has one. That one heartbreak that you're sure you will never recover from. The one that will make you feel as if the entire world has stopped spinning)

_Fall back in love_

_Forgive something unforgivable_

_Break up with someone over something trivial _

_Kiss in the rain_

_Kiss somewhere outrageous _

And that was where I'd finished my for the time being. It was late and I was feeling pretty pathetic at that point, so I went to sleep. Hoping and praying that somehow, this would work.

The train ride back to Hogwarts after Christmas Break was always my favorite. There was still a Christmassy feel to the air, but instead of turning away from my favorite place on earth; we were headed back to it.

I sat with Harry and Ron in a compartment just the three of us like we normally would. Ron was going on a tangent about quidditch that I was completely blocking out and that Harry was only half listening to. I tune in just in time to hear Ron wrap up his speech with, "All I'm saying is that I think we can bring home the cup this year. I just need to get my crap together and Ginny needs to keep hers together."

"Ginny's doing just fine," I spoke up. I didn't know much about quidditch but I knew that Ron gave his younger sister too hard of a time.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just saying that we'd be having a hell of an easier time if Fred, George, and Harry had just kept out of trouble."

Harry shrugged. "Malfoy had it coming. He deserved a good knock to the face and I don't regret giving him one," he said bitterly. After the first game of the season, Harry and the twins had gotten themselves "banned for life" by Professor Umbridge for attacking Draco Malfoy, but you'd be lying if you said the little git didn't deserve it.

"I don't really know if quidditch should be your main concern at the moment, to be honest," I said to them both.

"Hermione! I'm not losing the Cup to Slytherin this year! There's no way I'm letting Malfoy have that to brag on about. Besides, what should we be concerned about then?" Ron said.

"I don't know. Maybe the evil witch of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we have or maybe the impending rise of You-Kno—"

Harry shot me a look and I sighed and said, "Voldemort." Ron gave a tiny shudder. I rolled my eyes and Harry held back a little chuckle.

"But honestly, Hermione, we shouldn't worry about any of it. I mean, yeah, be prepared, but there's no point in worrying ourselves about it all. And we've got old Umbridge under control."

I wanted to continue on about how we were hardly close to safety after what had just happened to Ron's dad, but I decided to let it go. There was no point in arguing. It would only lead to trouble. I settle for an unsatisfied sigh and Harry grins.

"You know, 'Mione. I'm just glad you didn't say we should be worried about our OWLs again," Harry said, the grin still on his face.

"Well actually you should be, Harry. There's no way you're going to get that auror job you want if you don't—" I stop talking at the sound of Harry and Ron's laughter. Despite myself, I break into a grin as well.

Halfway through the train ride, I leave the boys to themselves and go off to find Ginny. I find her sitting in a compartment with a few fourth years, one being her current boyfriend, Michael Corner. I honestly had no clue what she saw in him. She could do so much better. She was gorgeous, smart, funny, and powerful. Plenty of guys were interested in her. The only problem she'd even begin to have was her brothers and she could easily give them a good Bat Boogey Hex and send them on their way.

I realized in that moment, that it was a little pathetic. My only girl friend was Ginny Weasley, a fourth year that I only through her brother, which was one of my two other friends. It wasn't the first time I had found myself amongst a group of fourth years that I didn't know and didn't really care to.

"Hey Hermione! What's up?" Ginny said, a smile on her face.

I shook my head slightly and blinked slowly, trying to act as if I had forgotten my reason for coming to talk to her. "Um…Nothing. I'll catch up with you later. I've got to go," I said, backing out through the door.

I heard Ginny saying goodbye to my back as I walked down the hall. I pretended as if I was looking for someone, trying to seem a little less pathetic not just to the outside world, but also to myself. I accidently bump into a body as I'm walking with my head down. I snap my head up, apologizing rapidly.

"It's all fine and well, Granger. But hey, you could always repay me by helping me out with something, eh?," said an unmistakable voice. I looked up to see the face of a freckled, red headed, frantic looking Fred Weasley standing in front of me, a black plastic bag filled with something that couldn't be good. When asked by a Weasley twin if you want to help them with something, you should almost always say no.

I knew that I was about to be dragged into some stupid immature joke. I knew that I should say 'no thanks,' and walk away before I found myself in trouble. But then I thought of all the things I hadn't done. All the trouble I hadn't been in. I thought of all the stupid things that normal people do everyday. I think of all the hours I've wasted reading that someone else has wasted doing something not so remarkable.

"Yeah okay. Why not?"


	2. Classics

_Chapter Two_

"Alright so this is a rather amateur one," Fred explained as we sat in the empty compartment he'd just led me into. "which is good, because I'm pretty sure this is your first, yeah?"

"I've pulled a prank before!" I protested, searching frantically through my mind for a time when I had.

"Yeah? Tell me about it then."

"Whatever. It's not important."

"Exactly. Anyway, like I said, it's amateur. It's nothing compared to some of my other stuff, but it's just a little touch of fun before term starts. I just needed someone to help me get everything set up in a short amount of time."

He opened up the bag he'd been holding and showed me packs and packs of marbles. He flicked his eyebrows up and gave me a crooked grin. He ripped a bag open with his teeth and said, "Just start opening the bags and spread them out all over. Over the floor, and the seats, up in the cupboards, you know."

"Why?"

He stopped spreading marbles out for a moment and looked at me, "Why not? I went off to the loo for a minute and I ran into you on the way back. I expected everyone'd be gone when we came back here. Glad they were. They were talking about going up to see something that some seventh year brought. Seemed stupid, to be honest. I was only half listening."

"And why didn't you enlist George?"

He shrugged and said, "Hey, he wasn't here when the time arose. You were."

I searched for something to say, but nothing came so I grabbed a bag and ripped it open. I started to spread the marbles out like Fred had told me to, doing it carefully and trying to make sure all of the spots were filled. I started to pour some on the floor when Fred yelled at me to stop. "Whoa! That's last. How do you expect us to get out of here?"

I realized how much sense that made and filled the cupboard up top the compartment inside. I filled all of the cupboards up while Fred started to pour marbles on the floor, starting in the back.

"Who would have thought I'd be pulling my first prank of the term with Hermione Granger, of all people," Fred said chuckling.

"Yeah, well this wasn't exactly where I had wanted to be either," I mumbled.

"Hey never said I didn't _want_ to. Just surprising is all. "

We finished our job and stepped out of the compartment, closing the door behind us carefully. We snuck into another empty compartment across the hall and sat down inside, waiting for everyone to return.

"So if we were to get caught we'd be in trouble for this, right?" I said, not wanting to be in trouble before we even arrived.

Fred shrugged. "Nah. Nothing serious or anything. Just a short lecture and off to the feast, you know. Just a 'Hey, don't pour marbles all over the train,' to which you reply, 'Okay, I won't.' But then you do, but it's not like they didn't expect it."

I allowed myself a small grin and said, "Isn't kind of, you know, just stupid?"

"Yeah, of course. I mean of all the pranks marbles all over the place is the stupidest. It pretty much doesn't even count. You've got to be completely thick to not be able to pull it off. The thing is though, is that it's classic and you've got to return to the classics every once in a while. Find your roots. Your humble beginning."

"Oh?" I said. "So is there some sort of rule book."

"You would look for some sort of ruddy rule book," Fred laughed.

I rolled my eyes at him, but grinned a little bit. I sat up a little straighter in my seat and peered out the window of the compartment, looking for George and all of his friends. I was getting bored and was wondering if it would be too rude to skip out. I contemplated leaving while we sat there in complete silence. It was while I was tossing the idea around my head that it occurred to me that it probably wouldn't matter either way to him if I left. I was just a temporary sidekick who was possibly reusable and definitely disposable. I couldn't decide which was worse: giving him the chance to think, "Thank God, she's leaving," or giving him the chance to (possibly continue on to) think, "Is she _ever_ going to leave?"

I decided that the latter was probably worse at the very same time that I decided that either way I didn't really care. This was probably the first practical joke—no matter how "amateur"—I'd pulled in a very long time, if not ever. I deserved to see the outcome of my handiwork.

So I stayed and we sat in a silence that wasn't anymore uncomfortable than it was comfortable. Trying to pass the time, I tried to think of all the times I'd had a legitimate conversation with Fred. I was sure I could count all of them on one hand. There were other times we had spoken, of course, but they were just side remarks or a quick question or two. It was weird to me how long you could know a person without really knowing them at all.

"They're coming," said Fred after a while. "I see Angelina. Lie down on the bench and look out the bottom glass."

I did as he said and waited for them to come closer and walk in. George had passed by Angelina and was the first to walk in. He stepped on the thin layer of marbles and started to slip and roll and move in a way that could hardly be considered graceful. Angelina had walked in behind him, tripping herself and falling onto one of the seats. George wasn't as lucky. He tried to grab on to something, but there wasn't anything there. He slipped one last time and fell flat on his butt.

"Jesus!" I heard him yell. "Dammit, Fred. Where are you?"

I heard a voice, more than likely Lee Jordan's, reply to him but I couldn't pay attention to the words. I was too busy clutching my stomach and laughing maniacally. I couldn't tell which I found funnier: the overall stupidity of the whole ordeal or the way George scattered to the ground. I looked over to Fred and he chuckled a bit, but mostly just sat with a smug grin on his face. I guess the joke looses his appeal after so many times.

Fred finally opened up the door of our compartment and said, "Hey Georgie! Having fun?"

"Oh, yes," George answered, turning his head to look at us. "It's splendid really."

Fred smirked and walked over to his brother. He reached out a hand to help his brother and said, "C'mon then. Better get up. Wouldn't want to get yourself dirty before we've even arrived, huh?"

George stood up and brushed his hands on his pants. "Of course. I like to save my dirtying until I'm safe and sound inside the castle, what about you?"

"Mhm," Fred said. "I'm sure my accomplice of the day would agree, yeah 'Mione?"

He poked his head back through and signaled for me to come over. I stood outside the doorframe and nodded in agreement.

"Where did you go all this time?" Ron asked the second I was back inside of the compartment. I shrugged my shoulder and sat down next to Harry, who was examining a Bertie Bott's Jelly Bean, trying to decide if it was worth the risk. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't believe you're even having to contemplate whether you're going to eat that one," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"So it's a yes, I should?"

"Most definitely not unless you enjoy the taste of dirt," I answered.

He wrinkled his nose and flicked the jellybean over to Ron, who caught it in his mouth. He chewed it up, swallowed and smiled. "It's like chocolate filled with raspberries," he said, the grin still on his face.

I rolled my eyes and said, "I don't believe you."

"Yeah, well, I don't believe that you just dunno where you were all that time. You were gone forever," he retorted.

"Please," I said. "It couldn't have been more than ten minutes. Fifteen, tops."

"One of us has very poor judgment of time," he said.

"Yes, but I'm not surprised. You have very poor judgment of a lot of things, Ronald."

"I think you just pull out the whole 'full name' thing whenever you've run out of material, yeah?"

I was about to reply when Harry interjected, "You two bicker like a pair of three year old siblings, you know that?" Ron and I laughed and Harry shruged.

"You know that I'm right."

Later that night, after dinner, I found myself in the Gryffindor common room reading in the soft armchair by the fire. It was late and I knew I should go to bed, with term starting back up the next morning, but I wasn't very tired and the book I was reading was one of those addictive ones that you can't put down, not matter how hard you try. And it never stopped being so addictive. I'd read it about a million times and I loved it ever single time.

"_The Great Gatsby?_," someone asked as they walked into the common room. I looked up to see what looked like a Weasley twin. It was dark and so I waited until he walked closer to see which one exactly. He stood in front of me then, and I realized it was Fred.

"Never heard of it," he continued. "Sounds rather muggle-y to me."

"Might be because it's written by a muggle," I said. "'I've read it hundreds of times, but, you know, it's a classic. It's such a shame that wizards don't read more muggle books. Some of them are actually amazing. A lot of them, actually."

He shrugged and said, "Some do. Don't have much time for reading myself. There's too many things to do, too many things to see. The thing about books, fictional ones at least, is you spend all that time reading about someone else's adventures and spend less time going on yours. Maybe I'll read when I'm old and decrepit. "

"I bet you'd like it though," I told him. "And it doesn't _have_ to take time from all your little pranks and jokes and explosions—adventures, I think you called them—read before you go to sleep or on a Sunday afternoon. We're don't all have to be, er, obsessive readers."

"Like you?"

"Like me."

He chuckled and ran a hand through his bright hair. He stood there for a moment, not saying anything. I tried to see what he was thinking, but his face was unreadable. "Well, would you be willing to sacrifice the book for a little while then?"

I took my thumb out of the book, where I was holding my page, and I closed it. I handed the book to him and I said, "Now, do you mind telling me how you managed to already sneak out after curfew on the very first night we're back?"

He shrugged, a smirk on his face. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." "Fair enough."

He sat down in a chair near mine and said, "By the way, you shouldn't have left earlier. You missed the best part. Wasn't until later when they found all the marbles up in the cupboards, you see. I asked Lee—he was sitting across from me—to grab me something out of one of them, pretty clever you see, and so he did and all the marbles came spewing out. They were looking for something to do with those and so I told Angelina that I'd put some bags up in the cupboard on the side me, her, and Katie had been on and they all came out of there. Pretty brilliant, yeah?"

I laughed and said, "If brilliant's what they're calling childish these days."

"You can hardly insult it when you were in on the joke," he said, flicking his eyebrows up. I realized there was no point in arguing. He'd always come up with something else to say back, even if it made no sense. I gave him a short shrug and let out a yawn. "I'm going to bed, I think. Good night, Fred."

"G'night then," he said, tossing the book I'd just handed him back and forth in his hands. He raised his eyebrows at the cover and opened it up to the first page. I walked halfway up the staircase and when I looked back down, I saw him reading intently. As I was lying down in bed that night, I wondered if he was still up reading.


End file.
